


heeding the devil

by blueshirts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (i read too much old fanfiction), (so this entirely resembles something from 2007), Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueshirts/pseuds/blueshirts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve catches himself staring at Bucky’s lips, admiring them as though they belonged to a woman, he forcibly recalls all the taunts and teases those lips had uttered to him over the years.</p><p>When they’re tired and bruised, peeling off their suits after a mission, and Steve glances over at Bucky he has to remind himself that he likes soft skin. He likes mountains and valleys that pillow underneath his touch. Steve Rogers doesn’t like flat planes and backs knotted with muscles, despite what the thrum of his heart may insist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heeding the devil

When Steve catches himself staring at Bucky’s lips, admiring them as though they belonged to a woman, he forcibly recalls all the taunts and teases those lips had uttered to him over the years.

When they’re tired and bruised, peeling off their suits after a mission, and Steve glances over at Bucky he has to remind himself that he likes soft skin. He likes mountains and valleys that pillow underneath his touch. Steve Rogers doesn’t like flat planes and backs knotted with muscles, despite what the thrum of his heart may insist.

When Bucky looks up at Steve through long, dark lashes, the angel inside Steve tells him that Bucky’s a man, and his best friend besides, Steve doesn’t-- couldn’t-- like him. The devil inside Steve goads him. “Don’t look away. Take it all in, and then pull him closer.”

When Bucky falls asleep curled up against Steve’s side, his hair escaping from behind his ears and tickling Steve’s neck, Steve forces himself to breathe normally. His friend smells of Steve’s soap and Steve’s shaving cream and  _home. S_ teve suffers a mental breakdown, right then and there. He must have. That’s the only possible reasoning behind his sudden, inexplicable, overwhelming urge to kiss Bucky. 

Bucky Barnes. Steve Roger’s best friend.  _But maybe, S_ teve bites his lip,  _maybe Bucky can be more to plain ol’ Steve._ His eyes dart downwards, and trace the shape of Bucky’s lips, from the cupid’s bow to the impossibly pouty bottom lip. Bucky stirs and all Steve can think is that he’d like to know what Bucky tastes like. 

To keep himself from trying to find out, Steve says, with a brightness he doesn’t feel, “Hey,”

“Hey,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and smiling like he only does when it’s just the two of them.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks, when he meant to ask if Bucky had a crick in his neck from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. Bucky straightens his back, pulling away from Steve. He laughs a bit too loud. 

“Are you okay, Steve?”

And that makes Steve angry, for some reason. Of course he’s okay. He’s beyond okay. He knows what he wants, and he knows he’s wanted it for longer than he could bear to consider, and now that he’s had the courage to voice it, well, the next thing won’t be as difficult.

Steve nods, and wets his lower lip. Bucky’s wide, panicked gaze follows the movement. Steve braces himself with an arm on either side of Bucky, then leans forward. He gives Bucky a second, either to shout at him or punch him or tell him off or give any indication that Steve’s overstepping himself, but Bucky doesn’t move. He seems to be holding his breath, waiting. And that settles it. Steve inclines his head, his lips just barely brushing against Bucky’s. A thrill runs through him, and Bucky sighs, whether in aggravation or contentment, Steve can’t tell.

“Idiot,” Bucky whispers, and Steve frowns, confused.

“Huh?”

“That’s not how you kiss someone.”

“Really?” Steve asks, not because he doesn’t know how to kiss but because he knows Bucky won’t be able to resist showing him the proper way to do it.

He’s right. Bucky’s hands fly up and tangle themselves in Steve’s hair. He closes the space between them and mashes their mouths together. It kind of hurts, and Steve’s sure both of their mouths will be bruised, but the momentary pain fades away when Bucky kisses him deeply and langurously. There’s a hint of teeth, but then Bucky’s tongue darts out as if to soothe away the discomfort inflicted. Stunned, it’s all Steve can do to reciprocate. Steve feels the effect of the kiss from the fireworks in his head as synapses signal the unparalleled stimulation to each other to the tingling in his toes.

After what might have been years, but was likely only seconds, Bucky pulls away. The smile that spreads across his face and lights his eyes is probably meant to be a self-assured smirk, but it’s much softer, shier, more vulnerable. Steve wants to kiss Bucky again, but he doesn’t want to remove that smile from his face.

“So, that’s how you kiss someone?” Steve asks, breathless.

“Yeah,”

Steve grins, “I think I might need more practice.”

Bucky nods, expression gone playfully grim, “I’m inclined to agree.”

And then Bucky falls back onto the couch, pulling a cheekily grinning Steve with him. 


End file.
